A Father's Love
by vexatively
Summary: Deeply buried in the heart of every great tyrant, a man exists. A man who is also a father. "She wonders what sunlight is one day, and Viktor wonders why it hasn’t taken her sooner to ask."
1. I: apples and blood

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**A.**

"Father, what is this?"

His little girl ran up to him, all smiles, dark hair and flashes of sunshine. Her voice was just the slightest bit condescending, and he could hear himself in his wife's dulcet tones.

"It's an apple."

"Do you… eat this?"

Her nose was wrinkled in disgust.

"Yes."

"Can _I_ eat it, then?"

"You are a vampire, Sonja. Of course you cannot."

Her dark eyes flashed.

Viktor spent that night by her bedside, running his hands up and down her back as she vomited small, bloody chunks of white flesh.

-

"Father, who is _that_?"

The tone in her voice should have set the warning bells off in his head.

"Just a lycan, Sonja. I would imagine him around your age."

"May I talk to him?"

"No, dear one. I forbid you to."

Her dark eyes flashed.

Sonja always did like the forbidden fruits the best.

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**B.**

Blood bonded Viktor and his daughter. His blood ran through her veins as her father, ever since she was brought into the world as a squalling infant and brought his wife into Death's arms.

Blood bonded Sonja and her father. When it was time, her blood ran in his veins as well. Nothing if not thorough, Viktor made sure that it was he alone who drank Sonja's blood and no one else. And Sonja became immortal, barely aging over the years.

Blood tore Viktor and Sonja apart. Their blood splattered on the stone wall, revealing lies as easily as teeth through skin.

Curiosity always did kill the cat (but what can bring you back after you've died in the afterlife?)

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **I watched _Underworld_ recently, and I loved all three of the films. I was supposed to write a oneshot originally, centered on Lucian, but Viktor stole a scene and eventually the whole thing. So now, he has a whole series of drabbles dedicated to him. Two drabbles every other day for the next twenty-six days. I'm starting this to try to write again. I also want this to train me to be prompt. :)


	2. II: childlike and déjà vu

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**C.**

"Father?" Sonja asks, nonchalantly sprawled on her back. Playing with her wooden doll, she was tiny against the large four-poser bed. Her hair was spread like silk over Viktor's exotic furs.

"Yes, Sonja?"

Viktor barely looked up, signing his name on a letter to a nearby nobleman with a flourish.

"When will I turn into one of you?"

Viktor's lips turned a little, his chuckles low and dark.

"One of me, dearest?"

She rolled herself onto her tummy.

Her eyes penetrated ridiculously well for a girl of eleven.

"A _vampire_, Father. One of _your_ kind."

Sonja was ridiculously perceptive for a girl of eleven.

Suddenly, it was much too hard to keep the conversation light and frivolous. Viktor walked over and kissed her forehead. His daughter blinked furiously in surprise.

"Let me keep you a child a little longer, Sonja."

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**D.**

Viktor swears he had lived this day before.

Is he in the present…

Selene looks up at him stubbornly, her brows brought together in frustration. She narrows her eyes. "I don't understand why I can't be a Death Dealer. _They're_ the ones hunting the lycans down!"

… or was he in the past?

Sonja looked up at him stubbornly, her brows brought together in frustration. She narrowed her eyes. "Father, I cannot see why you will not allow me to train already. The Death Dealers are perfectly fine whenever _they_ hunt."

It is like a movie he knows the end to, or a book he has read before. Try as he might to lead Selene's fate elsewhere, it refuses (starry and bright and a spitfire like his other daughter). He can see where this will end up and the thought of yet another betrayal causes a knot to form in his throat.

Viktor swears he had lived this day before. And the day before that. And the day before _that_. It seems that omnipotent entities above vampires and lycans enjoy mocking him, permanently stuck in a state of déjà vu.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Drabble C is AU, assuming that Sonja grew up as a normal child before she turned.

I'd also like to respond to typhon0727, by saying thank you, and that Viktor has always been a favorite character for me. I love how he says "Aye" in the council, but kind of has a mental breakdown after condeming his only daughter to death... and he only saved Selene because she resembled Sonja? He's amazingly characterized and I hope I do him justice.

Plus, I updated. :)


	3. III: eclipse and faith

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**E.**

There had never been a relationship like Lucian's and Viktor's. While they were master and slave, they had never been on equal ground. Not really.

During the nighttime, when vampires ruled, Viktor remained in command. Tall and regal, cloak swishing against pristine stone corridors, he was the very epitome of what it meant to be a vampire. There was none above him, and he was triumphant.

But Lucian slaved.

During the daytime, when vampires slept, Lucian's shackles loosened for a little while. He could stand on two legs without vampire-blue eyes staring derisively at him, wondering when he would return back to four like the animal he was. The other lycans acknowledged him as the Alpha, and he was triumphant.

But Viktor burned.

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"My Lord!" Lucian hastily got to his knees, before the other vampires thought him recalcitrant and added to the bone-white scars on his back. "It is not sundown yet."

"Stay, Lucian," Viktor ordered softly, eyes focused on the blue skies.

Together, they watched as the sun's rays were covered and the castle was bathed in darkness. Silently, Viktor and Lucian stepped into the courtyard; their steps on the cobblestones echoed in the silence.

For the first time, Lucian didn't slave and Viktor didn't burn.

And in the wake of the eclipse, Viktor and Lucian were equal.

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**F.**

He used to ride out into the battlefield, and his armor would reflect the fire of the sun. His sword once evoked fear, the mere flash of it causing fear to ripple through the enemy ranks.

Viktor was _not_ used to being left behind.

Yet, there he was. Waiting for the warriors to come home, like one of the _women_. Viktor's hands gripped the wall surrounding his citadel, his lips pursed. He felt his soul tear each time she, ever his impulsive daughter, scorned his words again.

(_And there was no stopping a wildfire, any more than you can stop a shooting star._)

The gates opened, welcoming the returning party with open arms. He felt his soul heal each time she, ever his impulsive daughter, came back to him again.

"I believe I speak for the entire coven when I say that we are rapturous you have decided to grace us with your homecoming, Sonja," he said, covering his weakness with dripping sarcasm. "Despite the fact that I have expressly said you could not leave in the first place."

"I said I would return, did I not, Father?" Sonja's coolness about brushing death infuriated him, her father's daughter.

_Yes, my daughter, but you try my faith each and every time._

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Drabble E is under the assumption that Viktor did not hate Lucian because of all lycans. It always kind of fascinated me how Viktor seemed truly hurt that Lucian took off his collar in Underworld: Rise of the Lycans. In a way, I suppose Lucian was the brilliant, strong, fearless son he never had. In my head, before, he was kind of indifferent to lycans. They were not worth his attention-- they were only slaves, after all. Later on, though, he kind of hates all lycans (eventually) because of Lucian. But that is another story entirely.

I'd like to respond to ryuzaki25 by saying thank you for the feedback. I plan to continue this all the way to Z!


	4. IV: grandchildren and hell

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**G.**

_Grandchild_.

The word was baffling to him.

His daughter should not have been pregnant in the first place. She was only…

She was only a few decades old, barely coming up to his waist, with wispy little plaits and the faintest freckles, although God knows how she could have gotten those, because she would have burnt in sunlight.

She was little more than a century, and terrified of the moon, with its accompanying lycan howls, and would grasp the pendant around her neck with too-pale fingers. She was carefree and childlike and _certainly_ not old enough to carry a child of her own.

She was only a tall, strong and beautiful woman— the best of Viktor and his long-lost bride— who was at the prime of her life, with wide eyes and high cheekbones and the world at her feet.

Only a lifetime ago, he was confident that her star would shine for all her life and that he would personally make sure it never fell.

Only a lifetime ago, Viktor wouldn't have even thought of killing his daughter.

_Grandchild._

Somehow, the loss was baffling to him, too.

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**H.**

Lying should come easy to a ruthless, literally bloodthirsty tyrant. And it _was_ easy for Viktor to lie to everyone…

… Almost everyone.

"Lessons were unremarkable today." Sonja stood in front of him, her back straight and her tiny shoulders set back determinedly. "But… Father? Master Jokull said disobedient girls and boys are going to hell. I've been good, haven't I?"

"You have been exemplary," murmured Viktor from behind the giant, antique willow desk.

"So, I'm not going to hell?" persisted Sonja, eyes wide.

It was unequivocal.

_Vampires will go to hell._ Simple as that. They, as 'mythical' blood-sucking creatures of the night, were destined to descend beneath the mortal planes once their time on Earth has passed. There was nothing any of them could do about it.

Viktor always did like a challenge.

"You can do anything you want, Sonja, as long as you put your mind to it." Already, he was making arrangements for the damned tutor to make a trip to someplace far away… preferably in broad daylight.

_But not _his_ daughter._

Sonja would _never_ be tainted.

_He would be doomed for the both of them._

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Feel free to give me feedback. I'd love it!


	5. V: icarus and jealousy

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**I.**

They were wider than most, almond-shaped. Normally dark blue, the hue intensified whenever she was mad or sad or over-the-moon happy. Her lashes were long and thick and she knew exactly how to look at him just like _that_ to crumble his iron will.

She looked at him and asked for wings.

He was more than happy to comply.

He fashioned her wax and feathers— currying favors for seats on the council, secretly bribing the weapon's master to give her the sharpest of blades, encouraging the trainers to be harsh and demanding.

And she flew.

In that split second, she never looked more grown-up and he called out for her not to get too close to the sun, because her wings would melt and her skin would burn.

And she flew away from him, Viktor's Icarus plummeting to the sea with the sickening smell of burnt hair and ash.

Viktor never _could_ resist Sonja's eyes.

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J.

Kraven has barely seen Viktor lately. In fact, he always seems to make himself scarce this time of the year, even while Kraven reveled in the glory of Lucian's death. Viktor is the closest thing Kraven has to a father; his approval ranks high above all else.

His calculated steps are silent as he makes his way towards Viktor's sanctuary.

(_I have a report to make anyway, _he justifies to himself inwardly.)

He opens the door a crack, perfect eyesight piercing through the darkness. His leader is slumped over the antique willow desk, silent and brooding. Immediately, his mind flashes to the best case scenario.

There is no blood, but the lycans have grown more cunning, their weapons more sly.

"My lord… are you all right?"

The Elder lifts his head and aims a venomous glare at him. Kraven takes a step back.

"I am fine, Kraven. Leave me."

His fingers move ever so slightly, and Kraven can see Viktor involuntarily smoothing the mahogany frame… a small portrait.

Kraven hesitates, but it was now or never. He _has_ to know his standing with his liege. "Are you proud of me, my lord?"

"Yes." Viktor is impatient, willing to return to his misery. "Kraven… if you see Selene, tell her that I have summoned her."

And Kraven can't help but feel a pang of jealousy at the easy ticket Selene had to Viktor's long lost affection.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Can't update in two days, due to personal reasons. I excused myself in advance, though, so I'm technically still prompt. xD Review if you like it. Review if you don't.


	6. VI: king and ludicrous

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**K.**

"Sire." The word is nothing new; simply another form of address that he has gotten used to now that he is the unofficial ruler of the coven. Before, they had been hesitant to refer to him. There had been three driving forces that tore the existing vampires and to revere one was to slight the other.

_Now, there is only me._

Viktor hides his surprise when he realizes that he has managed to wander into his daughter's room and it is she who has referred to him so formally. "Why so reserved, Sonja?"

"It is what everyone else calls you… they call you that more often now, especially since Lady Amelia and Lord Marcus have slept." She shrugs. "I thought you would not respond to anything else."

"I…"

_Apologize_. The word is dancing on the tip of his tongue, but his pride keeps his back straight and lips pursed.

"I did not mean to be so distant."

"No matter." Her eyes are boring into him, blue darkened and contemplative. Hesitant. "Is it my turn for a story?"

He racks his memory, trying to remember ever making such a promise. The uncertainty in his daughter's shoulders makes him think that he hadn't.

"Story?"

"Well… Luka's father reads to her sometimes. I ask him to read me stories sometimes, but he says it'll be my turn soon. All I have to do is wait." Her expression sours. "I don't like waiting very much, sire."

Her face is a miniature replica of her mother's, oval with its childish curves, but very much constant. Viktor has missed Sonja— he had seen so little of her over the past month that he hadn't even remembered how she could lighten his heart.

_Now, she is there, too_.

_Apologize_. The word is there again, but still firmly trapped between two layers of papery flesh and ivory teeth. It reaches out, though, as stubborn as its owner, awkwardly manipulating his limbs like puppets teetering at the ends of impossibly fragile string.

A hand closes over the smaller ones, folded over her deep green covers like crumpled lilies.

"How would you like to hear a story about a far away kingdom with a beautiful, headstrong princess and her bravery?"

Sonja's smiles reach her eyes again. "I'd like that, Father."

_Apology accepted._

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**L.**

Her daughter holds her mother's hand primly, each step carefully considered. She is wearing a ridiculous flouncy dress that her _husband _(she thinks this with a fond sort of exasperation) picked out. Selene loves him, but Michael has no fashion sense whatsoever.

"How was the movie, darling?"

Sonea looks up at her with incredulous, impossibly wide eyes. "It was ludicrous, Momma."

Selene tries not to smile at her seriousness, wondering how to break the news to Michael that _their _daughter might not share _his_ penchant for cheesy, romantic movies.

"There were _vampires_." Sonea rolls her eyes at the _obvious_ ridiculousness of the thought.

The vampire thinks, with more than a little guilt, about Sonea's resemblance to Viktor in that split second. He had been a father to her for more than a century, and she repaid him with his death.

_But I wouldn't have Sonea, or Michael, if he were still alive, _Selene tells herself resolutely.

"You're half-vampire yourself, Sonea," remarks the mother, a little teasingly.

"But they sparkled! Vampires don't _sparkle_," scoffs the daughter, still grave in her self-assurance. "Ludicrous."

"Ludicrous," echoes Selene, surrendering to her laughter.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Okay, so not-updating was a major fail. It seemed like life had crept up on me and before I knew it, I hadn't checked my acount for months! So, I hope I'll be getting back to the regular groove of things. I thank all of the people who have reviewed _A Father's Love_ in my absence, and I apologize for my answering late. Really, it's all thanks to you guys that I'm updating; I checked my email and was surprised that people liked this story enough to put on alerts.

The Twilight reference was unavoidable... you have two different ends of the spectrum when it comes to the covens. One would sizzle in sunlight and burn their own for procreating with another species; another _sparkles_ (yes, the italics was a _must_) and encourages vampire/human hybrid imprints with werewolves.


	7. VII: misconceptions and nay

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**M.**

Viktor followed his nose.

It had never let him down, not when it truly counted, and he believed that it truly counted now.

The blood that gurgled at the pit of his stomach set a pounding pace in lieu of the blood that would have ran through his veins, pounding that had nothing to do with the fast pace with which he swept through the halls and more to do with the after-scent of his daughter in the breeze.

The trail wound to the garden that had always seemed to be their— his and Sonja's— refuge. The lone willow tree, its branches barely tracing the surface of the pond in torpid ripples, resembled something different for the both of them.

To Viktor, it had been a reluctant first friend, constant and sometimes overbearing in its worry. It had been an eventual confidant, when the fates had thrown them together, and it had been unbearable loss, when the fates had ripped them apart.

To Sonja, it had been a mother.

It always surprised him how tears could trail down her face, when their species ingested neither food nor drink, much less _water_. Now, though, that surprise was buried under worry and sadness and nostalgia and an emotion he refused to name as _love_.

"Sonja," he said, expressing all of the emotions that didn't matter— _why did you show weakness to the dignitaries, you foolish, foolish girl? _and _vampires are strong, Sonja, not sniveling weaklings_.

"H-he asked if you were to send me a-away." Her voice wavered and Viktor regretted ever becoming so close to his daughter if it meant he felt so _vulnerable _every time she broke down.

"A misconception, daughter. If you had kept your head and remained to gather further information, then you would have heard my reply." Peering at her struggling attempts to conceal relief, Viktor's eyes softened. A tiny bit. "You should trust me."

"I _do _trust you, Father!" Sonja bubbled, her emotions careening to an all-time high. "I trust you with my life."

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**N.**

_I _do _trust you, Father! I trust you with my life._

For the first time in centuries, Viktor's nose let him down when it truly counted. Perhaps it was the earthy scent of the rain that clouded his senses. Perhaps he had been turning a blind eye (_nose_) to things he should have realized. Perhaps he knew all along. Perhaps he never wanted to know.

Either way, the coven knows now, not that Sonja had ever been subtle as to where her loyalties lay… away from the coven, where a wild spirit such as hers would never have to be confined to so little a space.

It will always, _always _find a way to escape.

It was raining when _she_ died, too. She had always brimmed with confidence, ready to tackle the burdens of the world but in the end she was swept away in currents too strong for her, that only those who have sold their souls to the devil can navigate through…

He was much too old, or she was much too young and either way, Sonja came from obligation, not some warped mutilation of _love_—

(_He tries to tell himself this, even to this day_.)

Viktor longed to go back to their— his and Sonja's— refuge. His daughter wasn't allowed to venture outside from her room, and Viktor _needed_ the presence of the woman who had once been his wife and would always be his friend.

He knew, though, that the willow tree would condemn him.

Knew that _she_ would look at him reproachfully, for even thinking about abandoning his own Sonja like that, _who trusted him with her life_.

_Nay_.

He wanted to say it, with all of his might. But it was either love or power and Sonja had showed him that _love_ had never really been worth it after all.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Gaaaah, the deadline is looming, intimidating, and freaking scary, man! I know this'll come and bite me in the ass, but I evade its evil clutches to present you with two longer-than-usual drabbles. Enjoy!


	8. VIII: open and paternal

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**O.**

The door was open a crack, not nearly enough for him to be able to slip through and see with his own two eyes the limp body sprawled across the too-large bed.

Really, it had been a lifetime ago since he had done this last, but he found that during the next full moon, his body knew where to go.

Viktor _refused_ to think that this was because a girl with dark, dark hair and eyes the same blue as the ever-changing sky was residing in the room across from his once more. He was just coming to check up on her— nothing more, nothing less.

_And certainly not because Sonja had once been afraidafraidafraid of the full moon with the bestial howls that ripped through the silence of the night like claws dripping with life_.

Viktor swore never to open his heart again, but he couldn't help but peer through his defenses— _just a crack—_ to see _her _once again.

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**P.**

In time, Viktor comes to realize that maybe Selene isn't growing up to be like a second Sonja after all. The revelation surprises him, heralded by the fact that more and more, Selene does things that he never expects. He's used to Sonja who, for all that she burned so brightly, was still predictable in her restless energy. Selene was a walking conundrum, and, if he didn't know any better, an all-too-familiar one.

Selene is all cold fire and unrelenting water torrents. And while she isn't hot-bright like Sonja, after the cold rush takes your breath away, there is warmth that pumps through your veins.

"Viktor," she addresses him, looking up at him through her dark lashes (_why was he resisting touching her again? feeling her skin beneath his fingertips_)."I couldn't have coped with any of this without you. So thank you. You've been like a father to me."

(_ah, that._)

"Of course," he whispers stiffly. "Anything for you."

In fact, if Viktor didn't know any better, Selene seemed to take more after Sonja's mother than Sonja.

But of course Viktor knows better.

Knows that the thrumming he feels around her isn't anything so crass as lust, isn't anything more than the pride a father feels for his daughter.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **I return. And flee. But worry not... I'm more than halfway through and I'm not abandoning this one!


	9. IX: queen and regrets

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**Q.**

It was sunrise when, in a seemingly unwritten law of exchange, a life was given and a life was taken.

The coven saw it as a bad omen and, coupled with the fact that their Elder's firstborn was a girl, only the sheer irrationality of the statement kept the Head of the Council from frowning and saying, "What a beautiful girl. Now let's put it back and try to have a _boy _for a firstborn, shall we?"

Viktor, responded to him nevertheless. "Yes, she's beautiful." The candlelight flickered and created crackling patterns over her deathly pale skin, on the walls around them.

"Certainly," the Head said briskly, waving his quill around and peering through grimy spectacles at the foul-smelling parchment. "But I really must get her information down for the census."

"Her name is Sonja." No one who looked at him in that moment could have missed the rapture of a father to his daughter. "And she will be queen."

"Don't you mean Elder?" The oblivious bystander asked absentmindedly, already immersed in the new documents he would have to draw up.

"No," was murmured into the stale, underground air. Already, he needed to defend her, keep her and dread the day he would ever have to let her go. Already, he was wrapped around her finger. "Sonja will be much more than that."

_Vivat regina_.

"She's my daughter, after all."

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**R.**

Worse than having the blood of his daughter on his hands, Viktor hates the what-could-have-beens. The idea that had he done things differently, Sonja could have been with him, safe and whole.

The blood is just there; staining his hands and everything he touches like some twisted fairytale version of Midas's touch. It feels no qualms against sending him image after image of Sonja's tortured face and the betrayal that made her bones slump in resignation. It did not do these things maliciously… it simply is there.

He needs it.

The regret is smothering; blocking his nose and mouth and ears and stinging his eyes until he couldn't see anything but the past, but different versions of the same scene and there are _countless_. It attacks all his weakest points with vindictive precision, showing what could have been _his_… a daughter, a son, a grandchild, _life_.

He wants it.

There's a fine line between need and want and Viktor can now say with pride that he can define it. That he knows how to toe that fine, fine line. The futures he imagines are elaborate but despite whether they're unrealistic or not in all of them the countless Sonja are _alive_.

Viktor needs his punishment. But moreover, he wants this painful regret, because only then can any glimmer of salvation left be truly blown away.

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**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Wow. This is the fastest I've updated since I was doing it every day.


	10. X: sunlight and threats

**A Father's Love**  
_by **vexatively**_

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**S.**

She wonders what sunlight is one day, and Viktor wonders why it hasn't taken her sooner to ask. To vampire children, the tales the lethal rays and the heroes they've felled have enlarged to epic proportions. They would hiss at its mention and it was the adversary in children's literature, their bogeyman to keep them from misbehaving.

Sonja, on the other hand, has always been a curious child.

_How do humans feel sunlight_, she asks casually, dropping in between her Latin lessons and history. He's not fooled by her nonchalance but he commends her skills anyway. Unbiased, he tries to claim but there's a reason he's a dictator, not an actor.

_Go away_. His expressions are decidedly less eloquent than his speech, but they convey the same message, more or less. The look softens a little. _Come back again later_. Sonja chalks this up to paperwork and treaties and quashing rebellions.

She can't have been further from the truth, but Viktor needed time to think about how to spin it in a way that didn't make it seem mysterious and alluring. He didn't need another apple incident.

(_I've learned!_ he convinces himself.)

When his daughter drops by again after mathematics, she's taken aback by his smile.

Reflexively, she smiles back as she nears him.

"That feeling there?" he asks, pressing a hand to her belly in an effort to feel that long-lost swoop that came with day. "That's sunlight."

He refrains from telling her that too much of a good thing is a bad thing, and that _we aren't exactly humans, Sonja._

(If only he had convinced himself better; the scent of her charred flesh and the sound of her silent agony seem to be burned into his senses.)

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**T.**

Which daughter they courted, Viktor thinks, blur together until he can't tell the difference. But he _could_, however, remember how he scared them away.

Each way was exquisite, like an art form, and by the time he finished with them, each suitor-date wanted no more than to jump off a roof in broad daylight that stay in the same room as he or his daughters.

His first was less subtle.

_"Leave." He could tell this one was a pathetic crybaby and scorned the fact that someone so wretched could ever deserve _his _daughter. The boy was already close to tears and he hadn't even offered to show him the newest addition they created in the dungeon._

_"B-but Sonja said I could!" His chubby face had already creased into a mass of pathetic wrinkles. "She p-promised."_

_"Things change," Viktor said airily. "Never talk to Sonja again or I will tell your father that you still soil your undergarments. On a regular basis."_

_By the time she came back, he was reading the scroll of parchment without a care in the world. _

_"_This_," and the way she said it reminded Viktor of broken china and sleepless nights kicked out of his own bedroom, "is the last time. No telling my friends to leave!"_

_And she glared at him as well as a six-year-old could before stalking away._

His techniques grew more refined; really, he still followed her rules.

_"Take as long as you need, dearest, I think I'll just take this young man on a tour of the castle. We'll probably go underground, it's such a hot day, don't you think?"_

He never again told any of them to _leave_.

_"I have a collection of fingers, you know. I take the pinky because they're not really needed anyway and they're the most aesthetically pleasing. Relatively, of course. As you can imagine, mutilated digits crusted with blood aren't really very attractive."_

They just all left of their own accord.

He was never outright much of a father. But he'd like to think that Sonja and Selene suspected why the men they brought home mysteriously disappeared.

_"… and I understand the executioner wanted a few more prisoners to test out his new method of choice. It comes from Spain and was designed to literally flay a person alive!"_

_Selene came downstairs, purse in tow. "Viktor? Where did he go?" _

_"Haven't the foggiest," he said, immersed with his crossword puzzle._

_Her eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"_

_"_I_ was merely making small talk."_

* * *

**Disclaimer: **_Underworld_, the movie trilogy, is not mine. It's distributed by Screen Gems (Sony); the first two movies are directed by Len Wiseman while the third is directed by Patrick Tatopoulos (although Len Wiseman produced it). This is all according to Wikipedia. Which, coincidentally, is not mine.

**Author's Note: **So I started this other fic in the _Glee _fandom. The minute I got blocked, I miraculously had something for my _Underworld_. Dude, I can see why people update more than one at a time! Please review. :)


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